Dark Desires
by Koinaka
Summary: As first a Black and then a Malfoy, she is no stranger to the finer things of life -- chocolate so rich and light, it melts on your tongue, the softest fabrics that money could buy, but he is the most decadent thing she's ever known.


This is written for sick-atxxheart's Challenge **Evanescence and Within Temptation. **Use lyrics from one of their songs either to inspire a fic or as a songfic. Any character, any pairing, any song from the bands, any length, and any rating. I've never written a Harry Potter one-shot or a song fic at all. Hopefully this is acceptable. This is something I've been contemplating for a long while on turning into a chaptered fic. If I receive enough positive feedback, I might endeavor to do so.

* * *

Dark Desires

By _Koinaka_

Under your spell again.  
I can't say no to you.  
Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand.  
I can't say no to you.

_Good Enough, Evanescence _

"_Narcissa_...."

She knows this is the word that he murmurs into the darkness, yet the language he speaks is foreign to her. She stays, perfectly still, as she knows she must, as she always does, weak creature that she is.

He sighs as he pulls her to him, his lips crashing into hers with a force near violence. She lets out a soft moan as she willingly parts her lips for him, his heady taste filling her mouth. His fingers stroke her face with such gentleness that she is almost able to forget the blood that likely covered them not even an hour before.

He breaks the kiss just when she felt as if her lungs might explode, leaving her panting at his side. He steps out of the shadows and into the light, the beauty of him leaving her nearly as breathless as his kisses.

She thinks his beauty is a mockery. How could something so beautiful do such terrible things? How could a demon be hidden beneath this facade of an angel? She wishes that she were stronger, that she was able to resist him, but she is weak. It is a pitiable excuse, she knows that, but it is her only one, and she embraces it now as she always does.

His laughter startles her. It is dark and rich. She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

"Your thoughts, my own, are loud and thunderous -- and they betray you, as always. Why do you continue to deny me? To deny yourself?" His transition into English puzzles her, causing her to furrow her brow and purse her lips, but then his lips are back on hers and his hands are everywhere. It's the same as always -- never enough and yet altogether too much.

_  
Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly.  
Now I can't let go of this dream.  
I can't breathe but I feel..._

Her breath hitches in her throat as his lips begin the painstakingly slow descent down her throat. She can feel him grin against the rise of her breast before he bites down hard enough to draw blood. There is a time that this might have caused her pain, but now all she feels now is an all consuming pleasure. He consumes her completely. She arches into his touch even as her lips mime the now empty words.

"We mustn't. Lucius--" But she doesn't finish her sentence. She never does.

His wicked mouth is descending further still and once at their destination, she is powerless -- unable to do anything but _feel_.

He smirks down at her after he pulls away, allowing his fingers to replace his lips. "Your husband," he says, and for a moment his lovely face is twisted into a sneer, "is busy, but even if he weren't -- do you think that would stop me? He belongs to me just as you do. He is mine to do with as I will. Everything he has, everything he is -- belongs to me. That includes _you_," he continues slipping easily into Parseltongue, "_you are mine_..."

_  
Drink up sweet decadence.  
I can't say no to you,  
And I've completely lost myself, and I don't mind.  
I can't say no to you._

This is the part that is always different. Narissa never knows what to expect. Sometimes he is rough when he enters her, sometimes he is so gentle that it is almost more painful than the other. There is no script to this part, no normalcy, because it is only _now_ that Narcissa truly lives. It is only now, when their bodies are coated in sweat, and moving together in the sometimes slow, sometimes frenzied dance that lovers often weave, that she _is_.

Now, she is every bit as demanding as he is. Her lips kiss, her teeth bite, her fingers touch, her hands pull. As first a Black and then a Malfoy, she is no stranger to the finer things of life -- chocolate so rich and light, it melts on your tongue, the softest fabrics that money could buy, precious jewels, perfumes that cost hundreds of galleons per milliliter -- but _he_, he is the most decadent thing she's ever known.

_Shouldn't let you conquer me completely.  
Now I can't let go of this dream.  
Can't believe that I feel..._

Afterward, she stays in his arms and allows his fingers to stroke her hair absently. She's never seen him as vulnerable and as _human_ as in these moments, and sometimes she can almost make herself believe that this is why she does this, why she _cannot_ resist him. She believes the words he murmurs now, sometimes in English, other times not. She is his. _Yes_, but he, in turn, is _hers_, and she never wants to leave this, to leave _him_. A single tear falls down her pale cheek, for she knows it won't be long now until they part. He kisses the tear away before pressing his lips ever so softly and whispers sweet words into her ears.

_  
And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall.  
Pour real life down on me.  
'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough.  
Am I good enough for you to love me too?_

When he begins to pull on his robes, the hard quality has returned to his face. His crimson eyes, eyes that penetrate her soul, are guarded once more. Here, in the place between where fantasy and reality collide, Narcissa has no control.

"Stay," she whispers. "_Please_."

His full lips curl into a sneer. "You know that I cannot. Come now, Narcissa...must we go through this every time?" He sighs exasperatedly as if speaking to a petulant child.

She says nothing, so he continues. "Wash yourself and get dressed. It wouldn't do for your _husband _to find you in such a state, smelling like a common whore, now, would it?"

His wicked tongue hurts her as often as it pleasures her. He doesn't even blink when her hand meets his pale cheek.

"Get out," she tells him, but he doesn't move. He simply watches in amusement as she begins to throw the many no doubt priceless trinkets he'd given her at him. He steps effortlessly aside, causing them to drop and shatter on the floor.

She is nearly panting when she falls to the floor, exhausted.

"So pathetic, so weak," he says, softly.

"Get _out_," she hisses, jumping to her feet, finally brandishing her wand at him.

He quirks an eyebrow at her, and moves not to leave, but to embrace her. "Your rage is exquisite," he murmurs against her lips.

_So take care what you ask of me,  
'cause I can't say no._

His thumb strokes her swollen bottom lip while his other hand rests on the slight swell of her belly, sighing as he does so. He leads her back to the bed, extinguishing the lights with a flick of his wand before climbing under the covers. Then and only then does Narcissa allow sleep to pull her under, but not before she hears his last whispered words.

"You make me weak_." _


End file.
